Nazi mass-murder begins with the syllogism: “If the state has the authority to sacrifice (kill) its best people (soldiers), why wouldn’t it also have the right to kill its worst people (mental patients)?” The conclusion follows from a premise. But the premise itself has not been analyzed.

The idea that soldiers are obligated to die in battle is a foundation of civilization. This is what Peter Berger calls an “of course” statement—part of our “world taken for granted.”

Political scientists and historians know a lot of things. But until we understand why, throughout history, societies have been willing to kill their own young men—we know nothing.

This groundbreaking book brings an important spatial perspective to our understanding of genocide through a fresh interpretation of Germany under Hitler, Cambodia under the Khmer Rouge, and China’s Great Leap Forward famine under Mao. James A. Tyner's powerful analysis of these horrifying cases provides insight into the larger questions of sovereignty and state policies that determine who will live and who will die.

James A. Tyner is professor in the Department of Geography at Kent State University.

The Nazi project of mass-murder, James Tyner has observed, began with the euthanasia movement and a 1920 book, Allowing the Destruction of Life Unworthy of Life. Authors Alfred Hoche (a law Professor) and Karl Binding (a psychiatrist) asked readers to compare a “battlefield strewn with thousands of dead youths” with German mental hospitals and their “caring for their living inmates.”

Based on this comparison, one would be deeply shaken by the clash between the “sacrifice of the finest flower of humanity,” on the one hand, and on the other the meticulous care shown to existences which are not just “absolutely worthless,” but even of negative value.

The state seems to be unconcerned with the lives of soldiers—sent to die in battle—but has extraordinary compassion for mental patients. If the state is willing to sacrifice soldiers “for the good of the nation,” why should it not also be willing to sacrifice mental patients—whose lives are a burden on society?

Eugenics was an international movement that did not begin with Binding and Hoche. The world’s first professorial chair in eugenics was established in 1909 at University College London. The movement was particularly influential in Germany, where in his 1895 book The Right to Death, Alfred Jost argued that if the state demanded the sacrifice of thousands of individuals in wartime, it had the same “right” in times of peace to demand the sacrifice of the impaired and non-productive, who were draining the state of its resources.

Tyner notes that the eugenics movement was significant in the United States as well. Eugenicists targeted criminals, “imbeciles,” etc. In the US Supreme Court’s 1927 decision of Buck v. Bell, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote:

We have seen more than once that the public welfare may call upon the best citizens for their lives. It would be strange if it could not call upon those who already sap the strength of the State for these lesser sacrifices—in order to prevent our being swamped with incompetence.

Here are three significant texts in the history of eugenics using the same rationale to justify sterilization or killing people deemed “inferior.” If a state is given the authority to sacrifice (kill) its own soldiers, why wouldn’t the state also have the right to sacrifice (kill) people who contribute nothing to society?

Scholars have devoted themselves to the question of how and why nations take measures to bring about the death of helpless individuals. But it would appear that everything begins with the syllogism: “If the state has the authority to sacrifice (kill) its best people, why wouldn’t it also have the authority to kill its worst people?” The conclusion follows from a premise. But what about the premise itself: that the state has the authority to sacrifice (kill) its own soldiers?

Post-modernism has turned nearly every cultural idea into a “problematic”. But the idea that nations have the right to sacrifice (kill) their own soldiers—has not been deconstructed.

This idea—that soldiers are obligated to die—is a foundation of civilization (and of the wars societies wage). That soldiers give their lives is what Peter Berger has called an “of course” statement—part of our “world taken for granted.”

Political scientists and historians know a lot of things. But until we understand why, throughout history, societies have been willing to kill their own young men—we know nothing.